Play for Keeps
by Clover Lily
Summary: When Ron loses his best friend to Draco through a bet, will the game of pok-er become a game of poke-him? With Draco Malfoy in posession of Harry, there's no doubt. But is there more to his game than meets the eye? (D/H slash) CHAPTER 2 UP!
1. A Pair of Threes

DISCLAIMER: This story is based on characters and situations created and owned by JK Rowling, various publishers including but not limited to Bloomsbury Books, Scholastic Books and Raincoast Books, and Warner Bros., Inc. No money is being made and no copyright or trademark infringement is intended.  
  
Play for Keeps  
  
Chapter One:  
  
A Pair of Threes ------------------------  
  
Ron looked intently into the five cards he held in his hand. He had a six of sideways bent squares, a four of diamonds, a "J" of clover leaves, and two threes - one of black upside-down hearts and one or normal hearts. Across from Ron sat Draco Malfoy who had, oddly enough challenged Ron to a game of poker. Though, since Lucius had been killed, Draco had become much more civil toward the Gryffindor Trio, it wasn't like him to play a muggle card game with them. It wasn't like him to do anything muggle at all.  
  
Actually, the only thing that really changed was Draco's fiery sexual appetite. It had gone through the roof, and, as every one knew, unless you're sexual appetite equaled Draco's, his bed was not a place you wanted to be. Except if you enjoyed pain.  
  
Shifting uneasily in his seat, Ron reached into his pocket and pulled out his last two galleons. Nervously, he tossed them into the pile of coins in the center of the table and waited for Draco to raise or put in just the right amount. Ron saw Draco move, reach into the sack of coins beside him in the table and toss four galleons onto the pile.  
  
"I double you," the Slytherin said with a grin on his lips.  
  
"I don't have it, Malfoy," Ron said angrily, "and you know that."  
  
"You have to bet something, this is gambling after all."  
  
Ron mumbled to himself and pulled out a picture of himself and Harry. With a sigh he tossed the picture onto the pile of coins. Draco raised an eyebrow as picture Harry suddenly hit picture Ron upside the head. An entertained grin crossed Draco's lips as he looked up at Ron.  
  
"You're betting a photo?" Draco questioned.  
  
"No," Ron said with a sarcasm-laced voice, "I'm betting myself."  
  
"Wow, how entertaining!" Draco exclaimed, taunting expression on his face.  
  
"Shut up, Malfoy," the flame haired boy said as he looked back to his cards, blushing deeply.  
  
"Really, Weasley, what are you betting?"  
  
"Umm." Ron sighed as he looked up from his cards, "Harry."  
  
"Potter? You must be certain you're going to win."  
  
"I told you already, I'm not sure how to play this game," Ron offered his bleak reply "but I have to bet, like you said." He paused a second and raised and eyebrow at Draco. "Can I bet a person?" he asked in an unsure tone.  
  
"Anything is bet-able. I hope you have a good hand," Draco said. A flicker in his gray eyes made Ron feel slightly queasy and the sinister grins on the faces of Crabbe and Goyle, who, like always, now flanked Draco's sides, didn't help the sick feeling in his stomach.  
  
"I got," Ron said nervously, "whatever this is." He threw down his cards revealing his terrible hand and Draco nearly fell laughing from his chair. "What is it now?" Ron demanded angrily.  
  
"You'd bet your best friend," he paused to laugh, "on only a pair of threes!" Draco's hysterical laughed quickly filled the Three Broomsticks drawing much more attention than Ron had hoped for. The redhead actually hadn't wanted to be noticed playing cards with Draco, which is why they sat in the back, but Draco seemed to have a way of always turning the tides, and the heads, when you least wanted him to.  
  
"Malfoy!" Ron nearly shouted, "Would you shut your great trap!" Draco, though, just continued laughing as he threw down his cards. Starting at them, Ron could only see a "Q", a "K", a "J", a ten and a nine all of normal hearts. He huffed to himself and picked up the cards. "What are these anyway?" Ron demanded. The words had just left his mouth when he felt a hand on his shoulder.  
  
"Nice hand you have there, Ron," he heard his best friend say.  
  
"These aren't mine," Ron replied as he continued to study the cards. Harry looked around quickly, noticing Draco, who was hard to miss, and the photo on the pile of coins. Looking closer at the photo, Harry noticed that photo-Ron was trying very hard to push photo-Harry out of the picture.  
  
"What's going on?" Harry asked curiously as a suspicious, unsure feeling filled his stomach when he saw the smirk on Draco's face. "Oh, no. Ron, you bet us?" Harry asked, crossing his arms in a huff over his chest.  
  
Ron bit his lip and shook his head, looking down at the table. "No, I didn't bet us," he replied.  
  
"Oh, good," Harry said, sighing and smiling.  
  
"I only bet you."  
  
It took a few seconds for what Ron said to sink in, but when it did, Harry turned a horrid pallid shade. "You. you what?" Harry choked, as he felt himself break into an icy sweat. "Ron, why? You know just as well as I that Malfoy-" he cut himself off, remembering that the Slytherin Sex God himself was sitting across the table, his laughs slowing into quiet chuckles.  
  
"That I what, Potter?" Draco said, standing up and leaning on the edge of the table, his shadow falling over the pile of coins and the photo. Photo- Ron, ducked down was Draco leaned over, pulling photo-Harry down with him, as though something were being dropped on them.  
  
Harry narrowed his eyes at Draco and stood beside Ron, leaning on the table, mirroring Draco. "That you'd just as easily rape me as Parkinson would rape you," the Gryffindor said.  
  
Draco looked taken aback, but Harry knew it was just acting. "Potter, you shock me," he said, "Surely you don't think I'd rape someone. No, no, of course not. I have other, simpler ways."  
  
The knot in Harry's stomach grew tighter and more painful as he felt his heart pounding in his throat. What exactly did Malfoy mean by 'other, simpler ways?' Or was he just trying to intimidate Harry.  
  
Yes, that must be it.  
  
"Come on, Ron," Harry said, pulling his best friend out of his chair by the back of his shirt. And dragging him toward the chilly autumn night outside. It was hardly two weeks passed since the last time Harry and Ron had been in a row with each other, but this was beyond acceptance.  
  
Betting you best friend to someone who would make you his or her slave for a month - the standard. They would make you do embarrassing things, like clean their dorm, hand wash their laundry, and feed them their meals. But, no, Ron had to bet, and lose, Harry to someone who would, yes make him a slave, but a different sort of slave - a sex slave.  
  
It wasn't that Harry was against being with a boy his age. Quite the contrary, really. Harry had been in quite a few homosexual relationships. All right, so he'd only experimented with Ron, but he still had no objections to it. He wasn't sex crazed like Malfoy was, but still, to Harry, skin was skin. And both Ron and Hermione supported him in this way.  
  
But, to be bet and lost to the sex god, Malfoy was defiantly not leading up to a tender experiment session with Ron.  
  
No, it was going to be cold, painful, and often.  
  
------------------------  
  
"Move over."  
  
It was a command Harry had gotten used to hearing each time he and Draco finished a round. Draco was, in simplest terms, a bed hog and didn't like anyone touching him when he was tired. But he, of course, had to stretch all his long limbs as far as they went, forcing Harry to lay on the very edge of the bed, his back facing Draco. At least, Harry thought, Draco wasn't a cover hog too.  
  
Ron had apologized profusely to Harry for betting him and losing him, but it all became worthless to Harry. What was done was done, and no matter how many times Ron said he was sorry, it would always haunt him - that initial shock and nausea that he felt.  
  
Not that Draco was a bad lover. He would often tell Harry that he was beautiful and that he enjoyed what they did. It was only sex, though. Draco could, and still did, get sex from whomever he wanted whenever he wanted. Harry was just another name on the list, the list he never wanted to end up on.  
  
And it made him sick.  
  
So sick that all the could really do, those nights he spent with Draco was lie there, at the edge of the bed, with the green curtain hanging right before his nose, and think. Think and ponder over what he had done to end up there, sleeping with Draco Malfoy. It was almost worse than being hexed.  
  
Almost.  
  
He and Draco agreed on once-a-week sessions for eight weeks. Rather, Harry had no say in it, as he was the prize and Draco the possessor. It was nicer, though, Harry thought one night, to actually sleep with someone than to have a bit of fun and then wobble back across the room to you own bed.  
  
What Draco had said about having other ways was surely true, Harry noted, as Draco did have a way of holding him like he'd never been held. The skill came from much practice, Harry figured. But still it was. interesting to feel. And, he had ways too, of making Harry moan - something that took a good deal of patients. Draco said he liked how Harry moaned, and that made Harry all the more uneasy.  
  
"You never talk," Draco said quietly, running a long, pale finger down Harry's spine, which caused the shorter boy to shiver slightly.  
  
"There is nothing to talk about, Malfoy," Harry replied after his chills passed.  
  
Draco grinned, though Harry could not see it and rolled onto his side, flanking Harry's body. "Sure there is," he whispered, nipping at Harry's ear. "We could talk about the weather."  
  
"Cold, rainy, windy," Harry said, making each word sound like a sentence to itself.  
  
"Or, we could talk about what's going to happen after next week."  
  
Harry only sighed and rolled over to face Draco, whom he did not know was nearly pressed against him.  
  
"Woah!" Harry shouted, sitting up quickly and tumbling off end edge of the bed. He grunted as his unprotected body came in contact with the cold, hard stone floor of Draco's dorm. Opening his squinted eyes and looking up, Harry saw Draco's hand extended toward him from under the drapes around the bed. Reaching up, Harry took hold of Draco's right arm with his left hand, and Draco twisted his arm and wrist lightly to take hold of Harry's arm before pulling him back into the bed.  
  
"Stupid Potter!" Draco said in a rough whisper, but his anger could be heard even so. Harry knew that leaving the bed was dangerous. He didn't even step off the bed without his invisibility cloak on. If one of Draco's dorm mates saw him there, it would be horribly embarrassing for Draco. Though, Harry still wasn't sure why he went to such lengths to keep Draco's reputation in tact.  
  
"Sorry!" Harry snapped back. Even without his glasses on he could see the - was it fear? - in Draco's eyes. And, it was just one more thing that made him want to get up and leave, just run away and stop seeing Draco - prize or not.  
  
But then it hit him, sort of how a ball of mashed potatoes would - hard, but then soft and warm. Draco had wanted to know what would happen after next week, which would be the week of their last session. He wondered why Draco had even asked; didn't he know they would just go back to their separate lives? Or was Harry just reading too deeply into things?  
  
"Should I go, then?" Harry asked, looking away from Draco.  
  
Had he not averted his eyes, Harry would have seen Draco shake his head causing his strands of blonde hair to dance around his eyes.  
  
"Fine." That was all Draco said before rolling back over burying himself in a mass of blankets.  
  
"Fine," Harry repeated, grabbing his clothes items, quickly dressing and slinking out of the room carefully hidden under his cloak. 


	2. Something to Talk About

Hello world! I don't think that author's notes should go at the end of the story - takes away from the chapter end, if you know what I mean. Sorry this chapter took so long - writers block, you know. Anyway, a big thank you to all my reviewers, especially those who added me to their favorite authors or favorite stories lists! I love you! And thanks to all the people I RP with for supporting my writing.  
  
I should also say that the disclaimer below is the one that Fiction Alley ( ) uses on all fics. It's a good disclaimer and since I have works there, thought I'd use it here too!  
  
DISCLAIMER: This story is based on characters and situations created and owned by JK Rowling, various publishers including but not limited to Bloomsbury Books, Scholastic Books and Raincoast Books, and Warner Bros., Inc. No money is being made and no copyright or trademark infringement is intended.  
  
Enjoy Chapter Two!  
  
Play for Keeps Chapter Two: Something To Talk About ------------------------  
  
The bed in Gryffindor tower seemed colder as Harry settled down onto his own sheets, sighing quietly to himself through the silence of the room. It was a think silence, as all his dorm mates were asleep. Even the heavy snoring Neville had found a position for his head so that sounds of steam engines were not pouring out, keeping Harry and the others awake. And, for once, Dean and Seamus had found peace, probably piled on top of each other in either of their beds. Thick as it was, though, Harry found the silence quite calming, as he closed his eyes and tried to find some peace, not noticing the pile of books he was laying beside.  
  
But, there would be no rest for Harry that night. He didn't know why himself, and quite thought he was going mad, but he could not seem to shake Draco from his thoughts. And, as always when he thought of Malfoy, a horrid pain filled his abdomen. It wasn't a painful feeling, really, but more of an ache of some sort – similar, he thought, to the buzz his scar felt when Voldemort was near.  
  
Rolling over, Harry pulled his covers to envelop his entire body. As Harry's mind wondered, he tallied in his mind that it had been his seventh night with Draco, meaning that nearly two months had passed, meaning that it was nearly mid-November.  
  
He had noticed that the time had passes, of course, it has just been slower. The mass amounts of homework he and his friends had been assigned by various teachers, a few detentions from Snape, and Quidditch were typically enough to keep Harry occupied through the whole year. But now, time seemed to slowly drip by, dragging on and on. And, Harry knew very well why. Spending one night a week with Draco had, perhaps, forced his own sexual drive into high gear.  
  
Perhaps.  
  
------------------------  
  
"Move over."  
  
"Malfoy. . . I'm too tired . . ."  
  
"Harry, move over!"  
  
"No. . ."  
  
"Harry get up! You're laying on my Herbology book!"  
  
"What?" Harry asked, peeking out from under his sheets. When his just awakened eyes fell upon his best friend, Harry sighed and pulled the covers back over his head.  
  
"Come on," Ron said, smiling and trying to remove the sheets from over Harry, "you're fighting a losing battle, mate."  
  
Harry only groaned and buried his face in his pillows. He was in no mood to get up, let alone go to class. But, he knew Ron was right - it was still early in the year and skipping class was certainly not a good idea yet.  
  
As they came into the Great Hall, the trio sat in a row as always, and Ron quickly noted that the bacon was cold. Not that Harry cared, of course. He was in no mood to eat - in no mood to do anything, really. Every morning after he had been with Draco he was like this, sort of wearisome in manner. The first few times, it had given Hermione quite the scare. She had said that Harry looked 'as though he'd been dragged through hell and tortured.' Though that wasn't the quite how it was, Harry was exhausted anyway.  
  
"Harry, eat something," Hermione pleaded dangling a slice of dry toast in Harry's face.  
  
The gesture only proved to make Harry more aggravated and, quickly waving his hand in front of his face, he knocked the piece of toast from Hermione's hand. It skidded across the table and came to rest next to Neville's goblet. Ron was surprised that with Neville's luck the goblet hadn't tipped over and spilt on the unlucky boy. Though it was unlikely that a piece of toast could knock over a goblet, in Neville's case it seemed possible to Ron.  
  
"I'm not really hungry," Harry said, looking from Hermione, who was trying to slip a piece of toast onto his plate, to Ron, who was busy eating more bacon than Harry thought could be healthy.  
  
"Potter!"  
  
All the students seated at Gryffindor table looked up as soon as the cold, forceful voice ran through the air. Harry just turned around and, lifting his eyes to Draco's, sighed quietly. They had agreed early on that no matter what happened between them, outside of the bedroom things would still be as they had been. Draco would torment Harry and Harry would retaliate as normal. It really wasn't hard, as Draco still infuriated Harry with the right glare or insult to Ron or Hermione. To Harry, nothing had changed. Nothing was an act. He still hated Draco, and was only sleeping with him as he had no choice than to.  
  
"What do you want, Malfoy?" Harry asked, standing up, arms crossed, and narrowing his eyes at the blonde.  
  
Draco laughed slightly and took a half step closer to Harry. "That wasn't your attitude last night," he purred, running a hand through Harry's dark hair.  
  
Quickly stepping back and swatting Draco's hand away, Harry scowled at the Slytherin. "Keep your hands off me, Malfoy!" Harry said sharply as Ron and Hermione quickly flanked Harry's sides.  
  
"Oh, look!" Draco said quickly, grinning through the shock of Harry standing up to him, "Saint Potter is rescued by his faithful knight and. . . what was it dear?" he asked sarcastically, his voice cold and cruel as he leant slightly toward Hermione, "Queen side castle?"  
  
Hermione's eyes flashed with anger and then confusion, as her hand quickly came in contact with Draco's pale, delicate cheek. It was only lucky for Draco that Snape had been making his rounds through the Great Hall and promptly turned Hermione to face him, holding her shoulders tightly, as soon as the loud crack of Draco's jaw dislocating had stilled.  
  
"Miss Granger!" Snape said, his eyes bulging and a vein in his neck pulsing. Through Draco's loose jaw, Harry could tell he was grinning though he was in pain. "Physical assault of another student is not to be taken lightly!" the greasy professor continued loudly. Several people in the Great Hall hard turned their heads or moved their seats to better see the cause of the commotion, white Ron had found a hiding spot behind Harry. "I'll expect to see you in my office for detention tonight." His words were firm, and he left no place for anyone to dare contest his ruling. And after giving Hermione's shoulders one threatening squeeze, he pushed past Harry and Ron before taking hold of Malfoy the same way he had held Hermione, but obviously not to yell at him.  
  
As Snape escorted Draco from the Great Hall, and presumably to the Hospital Wing, Ron sighed and, stepping out from behind Harry, flopped down into his seat again. "Well," he said quietly, "that'll give them something to talk about, won't it?"  
  
Hermione, who had occupied herself by rubbing her left shoulder, nodded in agreement. "I won't know what came over me," she said in a near whisper. "Detention. . ." Harry and Ron exchanged sideways looks as Hermione began mumbling to no one about her recently acquired disciplinary obligation.  
  
What puzzled Harry more so even that Draco approaching him and blatantly showing affection with so many around, was how he knew what positions Ron and Hermione had been in back in first year when they went after who they thought was Snape and the Philosopher's Stone.  
  
He would have to wait to ask.  
  
------------------------  
  
Potions had started out simple enough, as it always did. But, it would never stay that way. Something always had to happen in Snape's class. Weather Neville melted a cauldron or Seamus adds the wrong sort of dried wings resulting in an enormous explosion, something would happen.  
  
Or perhaps not.  
  
Though being paired with Draco was inevitable for Harry, he had become used to the idea and ceased complaining about it no matter how much he wanted to work with Ron - who always had the pleasure of working with Crabbe or Goyle.  
  
Draco and Harry had not exchanged words (aside from the occasional "It says twelve, not twenty-one, blind boy" and "Stir clockwise, boy genius.") Though through Draco's insults and constant nagging, Harry managed to keep his concentration on the potion they were trying to brew. Regardless of the fact that their potion was drifting between lilac and purplish-red, Harry figured that they - he - was doing a decent job with it.  
  
"Malfoy," Harry said as he was stirring the potion fifteen times clockwise, "I need to ask you something."  
  
Draco, who had been leaning back in his seat, feet propped up on the table lifted one eyelid in response. "Yes, Potter?" he asked in his typical condescending tone.  
  
"How did you know about the chess game in first year?" Harry asked, trying to keep count of his stirs while taking.  
  
"Oh," Draco said flatly, "Well you see, in the beginning of second year, Crabbe and Goyle told me - as it takes them both to tell a simple story - that Pansy heard it from Millicent who had overheard the Mudblood telling that Patil girl about it in Care of Magical Creatures."  
  
Harry sat half stunned by Draco's recollection of the line the gossip had moves down as Draco spoke. "Oh," he said, raising an eyebrow, "Malfoy, I didn't know you were such a gossip!" he said in a mock-shock tone.  
  
"Well," Draco said, sitting forward and sighing, "There is a lot you don't know about me, Potter." The grin that crossed his lips was different than the normal one he sported, or so Harry though, and it caught his attention. So he sat, mesmerized, staring at Draco's smile and he thought he saw Draco look at him from the corner of his eye, until…  
  
"Potter! Stir faster before you ruin it!" 


End file.
